“Art of the Umbaran people,” Thrawn said. “Has the rest of the task force arrived?”
“Our Star Destroyer has,” Vanto said. He continues to study the artwork with interest. “The ISD Foremost, Admiral Carlou Gendling commanding. He has two of his four corvettes with him, but he sent the other two and his light cruiser off to investigate a problem that just cropped up in another system.”
“Is Admiral Gendling planning to wait for the other ships?”
“He seems confident that we can handle the matter without their help,” Vanto said. “I’m assuming that once we reach orbit, he’ll order the dissidents to proceed to the nearest garrison or police station and surrender themselves and their weapons. Commander Cheno wants you on the bridge just in case they don’t.”
“Understood,” Thrawn said. “Please convey my apologies to the commander, and tell him I shall join him momentarily.”
He reached the bridge to find the combat crew assembled and at their proper stations. All indicators showed the Thunder Wasp at full battle readiness. “Reporting for duty, Commander,” he said. “My apologies for the delay.”
“No problem,” Cheno said. He peers closely at Thrawn’s face. “Are you all right? I thought you might have been taken ill.”
“I am well,” Thrawn assured him. “I understand Admiral Gendling is preparing to deliver an ultimatum?”
“Yes,” Cheno said. His expression indicates apprehension. “I advised him to wait for the rest of the task force, but Gendling’s an impatient sort.” He steps closer to Thrawn and lowers the volume of his voice. “He also has a somewhat overinflated view of himself and his capabilities,” he added. “Though that’s just my opinion.”
“Not simply your opinion, sir,” Thrawn said. “The overall pattern of his career validates your assessment.”
“Really?” Cheno said. He is surprised. “You’ve studied his career?”
“I have given it a cursory examination.”
“Really. Have you made the same cursory examination of my career?”
“You have not been offered the same opportunities as Admiral Gendling,” Thrawn said. “Without such, there is little chance for you to prove your abilities.”
“Even if I could?” Cheno said. His expression is wry and understanding. “No, don’t try to spare my feelings. You’re a brilliant officer. I’m an adequate one. You’ll rise through the ranks. I’ll end my career quietly.” He turned back to the forward viewport. “But maybe we’ll be lucky. Maybe we’ll have to fight a battle, and you’ll win it for me. At least the Thunder Wasp will finally get some recognition.” He nodded aft. “The starboard turbolaser targeting system has been giving us some problems. Go see if Ensign Vanto needs assistance checking the diagnostics, if you would.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vanto was standing by the weapons diagnostic station when Thrawn arrived. “Ensign,” Thrawn greeted him. “Report on the starboard targeting system.”
“They just ran a diagnostic,” Vanto said. “No obvious problem, but the thing’s been twitchy so we’re running it again. Did I hear Commander Cheno hoping the Umbarans take a shot at us?”
“You did,” Thrawn confirmed. “But his hope will likely remain unfulfilled. The Umbarans will not attack.”
“Really, sir?” Vanto said, his tone one of surprise. “Because they attacked just fine during the Clone Wars.”
“But only when they perceived themselves as having an advantage in numbers or position or command capability,” Thrawn said. “Those factors do not exist here. Furthermore, their homeworld stands to absorb severe damage from orbital bombardment if they initiate combat.”
“Ah,” Vanto said. “Too bad for Commander Cheno, I guess.”
On the main comm display, Admiral Gendling’s face appeared. “People of Umbara,” he said. His voice is strong and proud, carrying both challenge and contempt. “Or perhaps I should say, insurgents of Umbara. This is Admiral Carlou Gendling of the Imperial Star Destroyer Foremost. You have engaged in sedition and gathered weapons in defiance of Imperial law. In the name of the Emperor, I order you to turn in yourselves and your weapons to the nearest military garrison or police station. Your leaders will be charged according to the severity of their crimes; those who simply followed out of ignorance or family ties will be permitted to return to their homes and lives without punishment. If you do not comply, your world will face the full destructive force that an Imperial Star Destroyer can bring to bear. I give you one hour.”
“And that’s that,” Vanto said. There is a level of regret in his voice. As Commander Cheno wishes to test himself in full combat, so, too, does Vanto. “He’ll probably end up sending in a few stormtrooper squads to keep order and make sure the troublemakers remember what’s sitting over their heads. But for us—”
“Incoming!” Senior Lieutenant Hammerly called from the sensor station. Her voice holds surprise and tension. “Numerous craft, incoming from behind the outer moon. Two hundred—three hundred—four hundred. Four hundred craft incoming on our starboard-aft quarter, moving on attack vectors.
“Identification: vulture droids.”
No battle plan can anticipate all contingencies. There are always unexpected factors, including those stemming from the opponent’s initiative. A battle thus becomes a balance between plan and improvisation, between intellect and reflex, between error and correction.
It is a narrow line. But it is a line one’s opponent must also walk. For all the balance of experience and cleverness, it is often the warrior who acts quickest who will prevail.
—
“All ships disperse,” Admiral Gendling’s voice boomed across the bridge. “One-eighty-degree turn. Prepare for combat.”
Eli snarled under his breath. What did the overblown excuse for an admiral think they’d been doing?
But one of the Thunder Wasp’s officers, at least, didn’t seem to hear any implied slight in the order. Commander Cheno was standing stiff and tall on the command walkway, his head held high, his shoulders back. This was his chance—maybe his last chance—to shine in combat. “Turbolasers, stand ready,” he called. “Helm, bring us aft and above the Foremost. Gunners, your job is to intercept and destroy enemy fighters targeting the Foremost’s dorsal surfaces.”
A chorus of acknowledgments came from the crew pits. “Looks like he got his wish after all, sir,” Eli murmured to Thrawn.
“No,” Thrawn said.
“Excuse me?”
“He wished to meet the Umbarans in combat. But this attack is not theirs.”
“It’s coming from an Umbaran moon,” Eli pointed out, trying to filter the sarcasm out of his voice. Thrawn’s unshakable confidence still sometimes got to him. “The whole system is full of Umbarans. The Umbaran leaders aren’t screaming to Gendling that it’s not them and please don’t shoot.”
“Because they do not yet see themselves in a position of weakness,” Thrawn said. “They are watching the attack to see if we are weakened sufficiently for them to engage us.”
Eli shook his head. “How do you know all this?”
“All weapons: Fire!” Cheno called.
The Thunder Wasp’s bridge lit up with flickers of green light as turbolaser bolts shot outward toward the incoming fighters. A few of the vulture droids were hit, shattering instantly into brilliant explosions of smoke and debris. But most of them avoided the cruiser’s attack with ease.
“Fire again!” Cheno bit out. “And this time, hit them.”
“They’re too small, sir,” Weapons Officer Osgoode called back. “We’re going to have to wait until they’re closer.”
Before Cheno could answer, the vulture droids opened up with their own volley of return fire.
“Deflectors!” Cheno snapped. His voice, Eli noted, was starting to sound strained.
Small wonder. Theoretically, vulture droids should be no match for Imperial ships-of-the-line. But there were a hell of a lot of them.